


Not good enough

by GabrielsGumdropGirl (Sammys_Sunshine)



Series: Good enough [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always a hunter, Arguing, Dean Being an Ass, Djinn fueled reality, Explicit Language, F/M, Leaving, Light Smut, Lots of Angst, Once a hunter, Sam being the best friend he can be, Sometimes our dreams are better than our reality, They can't stay away can they?, daddy!dean, djinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 19:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13577325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammys_Sunshine/pseuds/GabrielsGumdropGirl
Summary: You and Dean have always butted heads. He pushed you away to keep you safe, but what happens when he pushes you too far?





	Not good enough

**Author's Note:**

> This one is going to be a bit darker than what I usually post. Nothing too horrible but something I felt I needed to write.

Slamming the Impala's door, and storming into your motel room, you shut your door so hard that the crappy picture falls off the wall and breaks. Sam shakes his head, knowing Dean was too harsh on you and heads to his own room as Dean pounds on your door.

  
"Open the fucking door, (Y/n)!"

  
Packing a bag didn't take long because you didn't have shit and everything you owned was in it. There wasn't even anything left of you at the bunker.

  
"Fuck you, Dean!"

  
_Not good enough. Fucker, I'll show you I'm not good enough._

  
Dean wouldn't stop hitting his fists on the door and instead of having enough patience to wait him out, you climbed up the broken bathroom tiling and jumped from the window. You hit the ground running, slinging the backpack over your shoulders and not fucking looking back. It hurt like hell to leave Sam but if Dean was going to treat you like a child, fuck him and fuck hunting with him. There was no slowing down until you were far enough away, and started sticking your thumb out to get the fuck away from the middle of nowhere Nebraska.

  
"Dean! Stop! That's not going to get her out any faster!"

  
Luckily you'd all shacked up in a shabby motel that didn't ask any questions so no one came out of their rooms to see what was going on. Classic D and D. Deaf and Dumb.  
Dean's anger finally gets the best of him and he kicks the door down, only to be met with an empty room. His boots thud on the floor as he sprints to the bathroom, only finding it empty too and a cold breeze flowing through the open window.

  
"Fuck!" he shouts and punches a hole in the wall.

  
Sam's heart drops. You were the one good thing for them and Dean had to go and fuck it up. Again. You'd told them last time that if Dean pulled his Alpha male bull shit again that you were gone. And now you were.

  
A punk, fresh out of high school, douche bag thought he'd be funny and try to get a piece of ass for picking you up, but a punch to the dick and a hop out of his daddy's BMW changed that real fucking quick. It was a couple miles before someone else took pity on you. This time, a kind older black woman who gave you a motherly scolding for being out on the dark road by yourself. She took you to the bus station and tried to give you money for fare, but you reassured her that you had enough to get you where you needed to go. Her name was Arlene and she made you feel better than you had in a long time. Giving up hunting wasn't an option. You knew what was out there. There was a bus heading for Montana and nothing sounded better than getting lost in the middle of nowhere hundreds of miles away from Dean. Paying for your ticket, boarding and plugging your headphones in, you shut yourself off to the outside world.

  
Dean had torn apart your room before hollering at Sam to get his shit packed to go home. Maybe you'd headed there to get ahead of them and get some space. Boy, was he wrong.

  
A little over half a day later, you were in Montana and the bunker was a disaster.

  
**2 years later:**

  
You lost weight, let your hair grow out and dyed it to (h/c). You were also working part-time in a mechanics shop with older men that saw you as a daughter that needed a father. They were amazed to find that you knew your way around cars and that you were an orphan from the "freak accident" that killed your parents. The oldest man, Joe, gave me a job almost immediately after going through an extensive background check. He looked like Sam Elliot and sounded a lot like him too. There were a few times when you thought you heard the Impala and quickly ducked into the break room just to get out of sight if it was them. But, after you'd tossed your burner phone out the bus window and stayed out of the circles that knew Sam and Dean, you hadn't seen hide nor hair from the Winchesters. And that was just fine. Until they really did show up.  
The newest project you were working on was your own car. A 1964 1/2 Ford Mustang. One of the rarest and it was jet black, just like another classic car you'd fallen in love with. Joe was working on the engine, you were underneath the car and the radio was cranked so loud with Johnny Cash playing that you couldn't hear that very same Impala roll up. When "Ring of Fire" was cut off in the middle, you were about to say something until you heard the voices. You kept quiet and kept working until Joe nudged your foot.

  
"Jesus, Joe!"

  
"Lord's name, (Y/n). Didn't mean to scare you."

  
You hid your voice with an accent, hoping, praying that you would fool the Winchesters' with your new look and by telling Joe a little white lie that you liked to practice accents from your 'previous acting experience', he didn't question you when it came out southern. His cowboy boot hooked underneath your ankle and carefully pulled you out from under the car so you could face your old friends. If they were fooled, they didn't show it when your face finally emerged from the shadows. You slowly stood up, attempting to wipe the oil off on your work pants.

  
"These gentlemen from the FBI have some questions for us 'bout the disappearances from the town over."

  
"Hmm."

  
Sam's eyes flickered with recognition before giving a tiny shake of his head like he was just imagining things. They held their badges up and you nodded, 'believing' them.

  
"Did you know any of the victims?" Dean interrogates you first, laying on his 'I'm a hard ass' stare.

  
"No, sir. Didn't know any of 'em were missin'."

  
Joe gave you a sidelong glance; the two of you talked about the missing people all the time.

  
"Mmhmm. How long have you been working here?"

  
"Three years."

  
The hope that was in Sam's eyes died.

  
_Bingo! They believed it._

  
The smirk that was forming had to be swallowed as Dean's emerald eyes bore into your (e/c) ones. If anyone was going to call you on your poker face, it'd be Dean Winchester himself.

  
"The disappearances started about a year and a half ago. Know of anyone that might've moved here recently?"

  
"No, sir. I was the last one to move here in the past five years."

  
He squinted, and you knew he was trying to figure out a way to do the silver and holy water test without being too obvious.

  
"If that's all from you gentlemen, I'd like to get back to work now."

  
They nod, and ask similar questions to Joe but keep an eye on you as you move around the shop. All the tools you used were pure silver, and definitely, cost a pretty penny, and so was the flask on your hip, filled with holy water. Flicking its holster open and taking a big swig while twirling a wrench around caught their attention.

  
"Drinking on the job?" Sam comments snarkily.

  
"Filled with 'holy water'," Joe says, defending you. "She's quite religious. Every one of her tools is silver as well. They're almost as expensive as the beauty she's working on right now."

 

Dean's eyes narrow, and Sam has to bite his cheek to keep him from laughing.

  
_Take that, asshole._

  
"Thank you for your time."

  
They walk out of the garage, you and Joe following them and waving goodbye as they leave. It was then that you fucked up. Your collarbone itched and the way you moved your shirt to scratch at it exposed your anti-possession tattoo. Of course, they had to spot it and you looked down, knowing that you were totally and irrevocably fucked.

  
Dean rolled down his window, much to your dismay. "Any motels around here?"

  
Joe pointed down the main road. "At the edge of town."

  
With a wave goodbye, Dean roared away in the Impala with Sam not so subtlely staring out the back window. The urge to run had never been so strong but Joe would never understand and your car wasn't even ready to roll yet. Plus, it'd only give Sam and Dean enough reason to be suspicious and probably follow you out of town. No matter which way you turned, you were screwed. So screwed.

  
"Well, they were a strange pair, weren't they?"

  
_You have no idea._

  
"Sure were."

  
"Why'd you lie to them."'

  
"They're from my past."

  
"You're on the run from the FBI?"

  
"No. God, no. I knew them from before that. Old friends that I needed to leave behind."

  
"They hurt you?"

  
_Not physically._

  
_"_ No. They're not like that. Only go after bad guys."

  
"Black Beauty is almost ready to go. Won't take longer than the rest of the day to finish her."

  
"Let's get to it then."

  
It was tempting to stay at the shop when you finally finished your car but Sam and Dean would only come back when they noticed you didn't go home. Not that they would know where that is but past experience from tailing other people meant that you knew they'd be doing the same thing to you. And with it being dark outside, they could get away with it. So, you held your head high as you rolled out of the shop in your beast of a car and left. You made a few stops before you went home, suspicious of the lack of rumble behind you.

  
Your apartment was on the second floor, and on the very end, allowing you to have a decent sized place and back porch. Your front porch was plain; no decorations other than a welcome mat, and a dull light bulb. Juggling a pizza box, a couple bags of groceries and mail was already difficult enough without adding keys into it. But, you managed, and with the automatic locking system you had installed made it even easier to lock your car as you headed up the stairs. With a push of your hip and a turn of the knob, you were inside your apartment. No sooner than you'd kicked it close that someone spoke out.

  
"Nice place."

  
You jumped, whirling around in the dark to see Dean, and thankfully not losing any groceries in the process.

  
"Fuck you, Dean. Get the fuck out of my house."

  
The light in your kitchen flipped on and Sam stepped into the doorway.

  
"We just want to talk."

  
"Get out of my house, Sam."

  
He moved so you could put the groceries away, but walked behind you as you took the pizza to your room, shutting the door in his face.

  
"(Y/n), please. I just want to know why you left."

  
"You know damn good and well why I left. If you've forgotten, ask your fucking brother."

  
"Really, princess? Are you going to blame this on me? _Still_?"

  
You tossed the box on the bed, pulling your shirt up and over your head and pushing your pants down and off your hips, with your bra and thong coming off soon after. The bedroom door didn't creak so you didn't hear or see them open it with your back to it. Your hips swayed as you walked over to your dresser, and gave them a good view of your bare ass as you bent over to grab your favorite pair of sweatpants and old t-shirt. Dean snuck up behind you, running his right hand up your back and holding onto your hip with his left. His grip didn't give you a lot of room to do anything violent, and he blocked your elbow with his free hand.

  
"You look good, sweetheart."

  
_What you would've given to hear those words two years ago._

 

"Why?" you snarl. "Because I'm not fat now?"

  
He whirls you around, gripping your upper arms and holding you against his chest.

  
"You were never fat, (Y/n). You were and still are, curvy."

  
"I still wasn't good enough."

  
Jerking yourself out of his grip and darting to the bathroom, you locked yourself in to finally keep him out.

  
"Dean, let me talk to her."

  
"Fine."

  
Dean left your room but raided your fridge for beer and made himself at home on your couch. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom so you could see him when you came out. He gave you a small smile when you opened the door.

  
"Nice accent earlier. Almost had us fooled."

  
"Hello, to you too Sam."

  
He stood up and you couldn't refuse him a hug. The scent of old books and the bunker hit you as he engulfed you in his arms, and it made you a little homesick.

  
"I missed you, (Y/n)."

  
"I missed you too. But, I needed to get away from him."

  
Sam releases you, and both of you sit down making the bed creak.

  
"Have you been here the whole time?"

  
"Yeah. Been hunting anything that got close."

  
"Know anything about the missing people?"

  
"Sounds like a Djinn."

  
"Don't go after it by yourself. Dean and I will help you."

  
"I'll be fine. Just gotta get the rest of my supplies and we'll be good."

  
Sam sighs, knowing he won't be able to change your mind. "Let me come with you then. Dean can stay at the motel."

  
"Yeah, okay. Sure."

  
Scooting back and pushing yourself up against the headboard and turning on Netflix, you let the conversation drop. You open the pizza box and offer some to Sam, eating and watching the movie in peace.

  
"Want a beer?"

  
"Sure."

  
Dean was already passed out on the couch, with the tv turned to the AMC channel. Three Stooges reruns. Figures. You take two beers out of the fridge, popping the tops off. There's some Nyquil above the fridge and you pour some into Sam's beer, hoping it'll be enough to knock him out so you can go after the Djinn yourself. Tonight. It was hard staying calm, trying to keep it from Sam that something was up. He thanks you for the beer, and munches away on pizza. Forty-five minutes later, he was out and you were sneaking downstairs. The rumble of your car woke Dean up, but you were already down the street before he could get outside.

  
"Sam!" Dean runs back in, and into your room, finding Sam passed out and snoring. He smacks his brother, trying to get his groggy brother awake. "Dammit, Sam!" A cup of cold water to the face wakes him up enough to notice you're gone, and then Dean is dragging him out the door. The Impala's trunk is still partially open, and the jar of lamb's blood is missing. "A Djinn? Is she going after a Djinn by her fucking self? Goddamn it!"

  
Sam stumbles into the front seat of the Impala, searching for an energy drink. His face nearly collides with the dash as Dean peels out, hoping to catch up in time.

  
It's a ten-minute drive to the next town, but you make it there in five, cruising down back roads to avoid the local cops and heading straight for the abandoned wood mill that the Djinn is most likely hiding in. The way the motor echoes around the mill is nothing but obvious, which unfortunately gives the bastard a chance to hide. As long as he's dead and you're not, in the end, is all that matters. Not that there'd be anyone to burn your body anyway. With your silver knife dipped in lamb's blood, and your pistol in your other hand, you make your way into the biggest part of the mill, where it'd be easiest to hide. The overwhelming stench of rotting meat and blood floods your senses when you open the door, and you have to hold back a gag to make it through. There's no flashlight to help you, but with the full moon out, it helps cast shadows and illuminate part of your path. It was easy enough to tell the difference from a rat and the wind, but when the machine's creaked just right, you knew you had found your target, and you were now the hunted instead of the hunter. An exaggerated intake of breath to your left has you whirling around, and firing off a few rounds. The Djinn laughs, the eery sound bouncing off the walls. The missing people are hanging from beams in the break room upstairs, and it doesn't look good. Four out of six of them already look dead, number five looks half dead and the last one looking like there's still a bit of fight left in them. The door slams closed, and the nasty looking Djinn bares his teeth in a grimacing smile.

  
"Oh looky, a lovely little hunter to snack on."

  
He starts to glow blue and as you lunge at him, you're hit hard from behind.

  
_I was either hit way too hard, or there are two of these assholes._

  
The double laughs and you know that you underestimated the dicks.

  
_No wonder there were so many people taken._

  
That was the last thought that went through your head as the first Djinn places his hand on your forehead.

  
Sam had loaded up on enough energy drinks that he had worn off the Nyquil and was more than alert to help with the hunt. There were no hints about where you would've gone, and where you knew that the Djinn was hiding. As Dean sped down the highway, following the path you went down not so long ago, he began to worry.

  
"You two really need to talk about that night."

  
"Shut up, Sam."

  
"She's a damn good hunter. Which is why I don't understand why you said that to her."

  
"I was trying to protect her."

  
"By telling her she wasn't good enough to be a hunter?"

  
"What was I supposed to say?! You're one of the best hunters I've worked with in a long time and oh, by the way, I drown myself in other women so I can pretend they're you?"

  
"Why not?"

  
"Because she needed to go. Needed to get out of the life and away from me."

  
"She got away from you, that's for sure. Let's hope we find her in time."

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

  
_You stretched your limbs out like a cat, moaning in pleasure. It was too hot underneath the comforter, and everything was so heavy. Why was it so heavy? Cracking one eye open, you noticed a very bare, very muscular back next to you that was attached to the arm currently across your stomach. It felt so right but something nagged you in the back of your head not too enjoy this too much. You were back in the bunker, which felt kind of normal but it's like you weren't supposed to be here. But, this was your home that you shared with the boys. Where else would you belong? The man rolled over and you almost fell out of the bed. It was Dean! You were in bed with Dean! His brilliant green eyes were already open and he smiled at you like you were the greatest thing in the world._

  
_"Morning, baby."_

  
_This couldn't be real. But, it felt too good to pay attention to the little voice so you completely gave in._

  
_"Morning to you too."_

  
_"How are you feeling after last night?"_

  
_"So good that I don't remember anything."_

  
_Dean leans up for a kiss, and you welcome it, loving the slight taste of whiskey on his lips._

  
_"Maybe I should remind you."_

  
_You were suddenly very aware of how naked you were, and Dean when he grabbed you and pulled you on top of him. His cock was as thick and long as you had always imagined, making you wetter than you already were. A knock on the door interrupts the best sex you might ever have, (that you'd remember), and Dean groans._

  
_"What, Sam?"_

  
_"Someone's awake and wants to say good morning."_

  
_Dean stretches over the side of the bed, with you still on top of him, and hands you one of his flannels. Without thinking, you put it on, reveling in the scent that is all Dean._

  
_"Are you decent?"_

  
_"Yes."_

  
_Sam opens the door, holding a little baby boy on his hip. He's got blond hair and green eyes_ _and looks so much like... Dean. You look from Dean to the baby and back, eyes filling with tears._

  
_"He's so beautiful. Looks just like you."_

  
_Dean holds his arms out and the little guy jabbers with happiness as he reaches for his dad. He bursts into giggles as Dean blows on his belly, squirming around in his daddy's lap._

  
_"Say good morning to your mama, Bobby."_

  
_Mama? Oh, my God. You're mama. This beautiful baby is yours and Dean's._

  
_"Hi, baby."_

  
_Gently picking him up and holding him, you stare into his gorgeous green eyes, absolutely amazed. A few tears fall onto his baby jeans. His flannel matches the one you were wearing and you let out a wet laugh. If this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up._

**< /3 </3 </3**

The sun was starting to come up, and they were no sooner to finding you than when they started.

  
"If-"

  
"No fucking 'if's', Sam. Wh-" Dean has to clear his throat- "When we find her. What?"

  
"You have to tell her. If the Djinn got a hold of her, who knows what she's seeing. She might not even want to wake up."

  
"Yeah, it'll probably be something with you. Not me."

  
"You're a fucking idiot, Dean."

  
"Fuck you too, Sam."

  
"Do you not realize that she left because of what you said to her? If it was me she was after, she would've come to me. But no, she left completely! When are you going to wake the hell up and realize that?"

  
Dean remains silent, glaring out the windshield until a flash of red and blue reflects in his rearview mirror. He slams his hand on the steering wheel and pulls over. His impatience grows with each lazy step the local cop takes, only rolling down his window when the cop reaches Baby's bumper.

  
"Going a little fast there, weren't ya?"

  
Dean flashes his FBI badge and the cop pales.

  
"Our partner might be compromised and we need to get to her as fast as we can. Where's the closest place that's been abandoned that someone would go if they were hiding?"

  
"The abandoned Forester mill. Swing back around and take the first right. It's about a mile down."

  
"Thank you, officer. Have a nice day."

  
Dean cranks Baby's wheel hard, kicking up pebbles and dust behind the car as he drives away. It doesn't take long for them to get there, quickly spotting your abandoned car, and parking next to it. The lamb's blood is sitting in the driver's seat where you left it. Sam holds it, dipping his knife in first and then Dean, before putting it back in the Impala's trunk where it belongs. They're locked and loaded, running to the same building you're in, kicking down doors and making as much noise as they can.

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

  
_The bunker looked the same, with the exception of Bobby's room, and you couldn't understand why you'd think any of this was wrong. By the look of the makeshift living room, it was Christmas time and your little family had had a blast decorating. Lights and streamers were everywhere, with a giant tree in the middle and plenty of gifts underneath it. Sam carries Bobby underneath the lights, pointing up to them and naming off the colors. You're still wearing Dean's flannel, but have a pair of shorts on underneath that are kind of hidden because of how big his shirt is on you. You're caught in the magic of the Christmas decorations when Dean clears his throat, and you look around for a moment until your eyes land on him down on one knee in front of the tree._

  
_"I know it hasn't always been easy for us and I made it difficult to be around until I could finally confess my feelings for you but, I promise you and Bobby, I will be the best man and dad you and him could hope for. I would go back to Hell if it meant keeping you and him safe, and nothing would make me happier if you gave me the answer I am dying to hear." He pulls a little blue velvet box from the tree branches, opening it up to reveal a simple silver band with a gorgeous diamond in the middle and two little emeralds on each side of it. "I was hoping to wait for Christmas morning to do this, but I couldn't wait any longer. (Y/n), will you marry me?"_

  
_"Yes. Oh God, yes!"_

  
_He laughs, and wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting you up in the air and swinging you around before setting you on your feet and sliding the ring onto your finger. Bobby makes it even better by clapping, and Sam comes over to hug you._

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

  
Both Djinn's come out of the woodworks with the noises Sam and Dean were making, glowing and baring teeth, ready to take another victim or two.

  
"The Winchesters'," one laughs. "This will be an honorable kill."

  
"You wish, you son of a bitch!"

  
"You're too late," the other mocks them. "She will not live. None of them will."

  
An explosion of snarling and shouting erupts from Sam, Dean and the Djinns until it's difficult to tell what came from who. They all clashed, landing punches and trying to overthrow the other until Sam finally imbeds his knife deep in the side of the Djinn he was fighting, throwing the other one into a rage and distracting him enough that Dean was able to finish him off as well. The Djinn's drop dead, and they take off, running through the shop to find you and the others.

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

  
_After Dean proposed, the four of you left to go have a celebratory lunch at your favorite diner close to the bunker. The food was amazing and everyone was complimenting the glow you and Dean had around each other. A different voice nudges you to ask Sam to go to the store for you and pick something up. You text him, and he smiles, nodding when Dean isn't paying attention. He uses a believable excuse to leave early, promising to come back and pick the three of you up._

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

 

Sam and Dean find the break room, cutting everyone down and pulling the needles out of all their arms. You'd lost just as much blood as the people that had been there for weeks and you weren't waking up. They left the others as soon as they placed a 911 call, running out of the workshop with you in Sam's arms. He placed you in the back of the Impala, and got into your car, following Dean back to your place. They were pushing the limits of the cars but would stop at nothing to try and get you back. Dean made it to your place in record time, barely getting stopped before he was pulling you out of the backseat and carrying you up the stairs. You were laid on the bed, and Dean prayed that you would wake up.

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

  
_Sam snuck the bag to you while Dean carried Bobby inside, and you dashed down to your bathroom, to pee on the little stick._

  
_"Where'd (Y/n) go?"_

  
_Sam just shrugs_ _and takes Bobby to go play._

  
_Three minutes takes forever when you're waiting on results, but one little word finally pops up on the screen: PREGNANT. Christmas Eve was tomorrow night and you couldn't wait to tell Dean. You stash the test away until you can wrap it and surprise him. He's waiting outside the bathroom and quickly grabs you to pull you down to your shared room._

 

_"Gotta be quick, but can't wait anymore."_

  
_Frantic kisses, hands everywhere and clothes flying in every direction as Dean rushes through to get you naked and on top of him. You're wet enough that there's no need for foreplay and as soon as you're both positioned where you want to be, Dean enters you in one fluid motion, and you moan, long and loud as you sink all the way down on him. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, guiding you back and forth on his cock as your back arches and you bounce on him. He slams up into you, growling your name over and over as you whimper and whine with every thrust. Your orgasm builds rapidly and hits you so hard the wind is knocked from your lungs. Dean comes next with a shout, and you collapse onto his chest, both of you panting hard._

  
_"I love you, (Y/n)."_

  
_No time like the present right?_

  
_"I love you too, Dean. Guess what?"_

  
_"What?"_

  
_You look up at him, grinning like a fool._

  
_"You're going to be a daddy again!"_

  
_He bursts into excited laughter, pulling you up for another kiss and then rolling you off him so he can rub your flat for now belly._

  
_As he does so, someone somewhere shouts your name and yells WAKE UP!_

  
_You're too happy here and there's no better reality than this_.

  
**< /3 </3 </3**

  
"Dean, her pulse is slowing. She's not going to make it."

  
"Cas!"

  
Sam's heart was breaking.

  
"Come on, (Y/n). Wake up! Come back to me!"

  
Dean keeps screaming your name, and something inside you snaps, waking you up from your dream world. Dean lets out a shaky breath, laughing and smiling down at you.

  
"There's my girl."

  
You reach up, touching his cheek with your fingertips and whispering his name before your hand drops back down to the bed. Dean's smile falls and his heart plummets as he realizes you're not breathing anymore and he can't find a pulse.

 

"No. No, no, no, no!"

  
"She's gone."

  
"No! We just had her back!"

  
"They took too much blood for her to recover."

  
"NO!"

  
Dean collapses onto your chest, hot tears rolling down his face. His heart hardens, and he jerks up before storming out of your place. There's only one place for him to go, and it's not going to be good. Sam could try and stop him but it wouldn't do any good and he can't bring himself to leave you.

  
As Dean searches for a crossroad, your soul floats up to Heaven until it's intercepted by something bloody red and ruthless.

  
"Well, well," a dark, British voice drawls, "what have we here?" Ghostly hands twist and turn your soul, stretching and playing with it until the bright light of it is turned pitch black. It takes you deeper into Hell until you reach a place that none come voluntarily. "Lucifer..." the voice calls out, almost singing the name.

  
Red eyes glow in the darkness, curious about who would be dumb enough to disturb him.

  
"Crowley," Lucifer regards him coolly in a monotone voice.

  
"I brought you a present. Something that's special to the Winchester's. Play with it while I arrange a 'deal'."

  
The black shape that's now a demented version of your soul, floats to Lucifer, curling around his fingers and down his arm. He can see what your human shell looks like, grinning wickedly. Your soul purrs playfully, teasing the Devil.

  
"You're a feisty little thing aren't you, my pet?"

  
Lucifer plays with your soul until something beckons to you to leave Hell and go back to your body.

  
"Until we meet again, doll."

  
Red hot eyes melt back into the darkness, but you take some of that fire as you become earthside. Crowley's demon fakes the deal with Dean, and as she kisses him, you enter your body. (E/c) eyes go black, then the black dissipates revealing bloody red irises before fading back to (e/c). The Djinn reality breaks from memory like glass shattering until nothing can be remembered except the anger and rejection you felt because of Dean.

  
The hunter comes in a few minutes later, dropping himself onto the bed and taking your hand in his.

  
"Hey, (Y/n). Wake up for me, please?"

  
Your eyes flutter open, and you smile.

  
"Hiya, boys." 


End file.
